Four Days
by digitalmonster911
Summary: An expansion of my one-shot Silent. Who is Theodore Nott? And why is he always so quiet?
1. Chapter 1: Discovery

**Four Days**

Disclaimer: If Theodore Nott were a real person, I would find him and marry him.

_Chapter 1: Discovery_

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Hermione Granger narrowed her eyes at the book on the top of the shelf in front of her. How dare it rest there, in all its mockery, while she stood there impatiently, unable to reach it?

She wasn't stupid. She'd already tried levitating it down, but the blasted thing was warded against magical attacks, not that Hermione considered _Wingardium Leviosa _to be an attack anyway.

She could try transfiguring herself, she supposed, so that she was tall enough to grab it. Human transfiguration was a dangerous thing, however, and Hermione endeavoured to make use of it only in the most necessary of circumstances.

All in all, this day was rapidly going from bad to worse.

As she stood there, contemplating what to try next, a hand reached up and plucked the book deftly from the shelf. Hermione turned, startled, to come face to face with one Theodore Nott.

His clear blue eyes watched her calmly, but she could only see one of them as his dark hair covered the other. His hand, the book clasped within it, stretched out towards her and offered her the prize.

"Thank you," Hermione said stiffly, accepting the book from the tall Slytherin. He merely shrugged and turned, walking back down the aisle, his shoes making no sound upon the ground.

He was absolutely silent.

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Not much was known about the elusive Theodore Nott. He was a seventh year, a Slytherin, with dark brown hair and eyes the colour of the sky, and just as striking. He was thin, almost unhealthily so, and rather tall for his age. His father was a Death Eater, but he himself seemed to harbour no grudge against Gryffindors or Muggleborns.

Theodore Nott was an enigma. And that's just the way he liked it.

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"You'll never guess what happened to me in the library today," Hermione said quietly later that night in the Gryffindor common room. Her eyes were focused on Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, who were playing a game of wizard's chess, but her words were directed to Ginevra Weasley, Ron's sister and Harry's girlfriend of six months.

"You forgot your way to the library?" Ginny teased, her eyes also on the two males. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Hardly, though it did happen in the library, now that you mention it. Theodore Nott helped me get a book down from a shelf."

"Theodore Nott, from Slytherin?"

"How many other Theodore Nott's do we know?"

"Not enough. He's frightfully attractive."

Hermione snorted. It was just like Ginny to turn their conversation into a gossip session about boys.

"I hadn't noticed."

"You've been missing out then. He can help me study any time."

Hermione didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't bad-looking, she supposed, but he wasn't really her type. Plus, she barely knew anything about him.

"That's not the point."

"What was your point? So what, he helped you get a book. What's the big deal? Maybe he's just a nice guy."

"He's not exactly known for his kindness, Ginny."

"To be perfectly honest with you, there isn't much that Theodore Nott _is_ known for."

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So what do you think? I told you I'd try and make a longer version, and I'm hoping that this is going to be it. It's going to be Hermione/Theodore, obviously, but I want to explore Theodore's personality more than anything. Why is he always so quiet? Review with the pretty button below!


	2. Chapter 2: Predator

**Four Days**

Disclaimer: I wish I knew someone with the name Theodore.

_Chapter 2: Predator_

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Ginny's words had struck a chord with Hermione.

"_To be perfectly honest with you, there isn't much that Theodore Nott _is_ known for."_

This was going to change, Hermione vowed. If he wouldn't become more approachable of his own accord, she would just have to figure out what made him tick.

He spent an awful lot of time at the library, Hermione noticed as she sat a few tables away from him, her face hidden behind a book charmed to be a one-way transparent object. She watched the way his hand moved across the paper, the way he would re-dip his quill after writing only a few lines. The way his forehead would crease when he encountered something he did not fully understand.

Hermione watched him with the eyes of a predator, and Theodore Nott was her prey.

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He knew she was there, of course. Hermione Granger was a lot of things, but subtle was definitely not one of them.

As if a Gryffindor could outwit a Slytherin anyway.

Part of him wondered why she watched him so. Part of him didn't care. Theodore wasn't fond of playing games, but sometimes patience was well worth the wait.

So he waited. And observed the observer.

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Hermione was sure that he had noticed her presence by now. Her initial theories about Theodore had paid particular attention to his observant nature. There wasn't much that he didn't see, but she was also sure he was the kind of person that chose to acknowledge only what he wished to.

Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing was something else entirely.

Hermione certainly wasn't stupid. No one had dared to accuse her of such a ridiculous notion in all her seventeen years.

She was, however, blind to him. Completely and utterly blind.

It wasn't a sensation she enjoyed.

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Theodore was growing bored now. He had never had a very long attention span, and the silly habit that Miss Granger had begun to pursue irritated him. It was interesting, at first, but as time wore on it began to grow tiresome.

Perhaps silence would not be the best companion in this encounter.

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Hermione stiffened. He had moved, most likely to return a book to the shelf. She watched as he replaced it carefully, noting the gentleness with which he treated the old tome. She waited for him to sit back down.

He did not.

Instead he turned to face her, and his vibrant blue eyes met hers. A chill ran down her spine.

_How did he know?_

Theodore walked over to her, almost casually, his purpose only defined by the tight set of his shoulders. Even in her frozen state Hermione could not help but notice how he held himself, and how graceful his stride was despite his height and proportion.

It wasn't until he had almost passed her that he leant down, his lips almost brushing her ear. Hermione held her breath.

"_I see you."_

And with that, he was gone.

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O.O

He spoke!

I know it's rather short, but I think the length of the chapters helps to add to the suspense.

Read and review!


	3. Chapter 3: Obsession

**Four Days**

A/N: This chapter demonstrates that the story has gone down a different path: everything up until the end of the sixth book has happened, but the Golden Trio and Friends have returned for their seventh year at Hogwarts, so the Deathly Hallows never happens in my story world.

Disclaimer: If I owned Theodore Nott, my life's goal would be accomplished.

_Chapter 3: Obsession_

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Theodore sighed as he not-very-gracefully threw himself onto his bed. He turned his head to observe the empty bed next to his that belonged to Blaise Zabini. Where Blaise was, he didn't know, but he could probably hazard a guess easily enough.

All of the other beds in the seventh year boy's dormitory were also empty. It seemed that Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle all had other things to do as well, rather than enjoy the comfort of their own thoughts as Theodore was doing right now.

Theodore knew exactly what his dorm mates were doing at this present moment, and it disgusted him in a detached way. He didn't like what they were doing, but as it didn't directly affect him, part of Theodore didn't really care. He didn't know any of the Muggle-borns personally, after all.

Most people would say that he told himself that to try and alleviate the guilt, but the truth was that Theodore never lied to himself. If that's the way he thought he felt, that was the way he felt. No complications.

Complications were such a mess, after all.

Take Granger, for instance. He was perfectly happy with his solitude, his quiet, I-don't-like-to-talk-to-anyone-so-don't-make-me-if-you-know-what's-good-for-you attitude. Then she simply _had_ to try and figure him out, watch him, observe him. Force him to speak to her in order for her to leave him alone.

She was such a – nosy wasn't quite the right word – such a – _Gryffindor_.

And that was the problem. He should never have gotten that book for her in the first place.

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Hermione was sitting in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. From her appearance she was completely absorbed in the book laying in front of her. It would take the well-trained eye of Harry Potter, perhaps, to notice that the bookworm was, for the first time in her life, _not_ paying attention to the book.

No, her thoughts were on other things rather than one of the goblin rebellions that she was supposed to be revising.

For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger's thoughts were on a boy.

Not just any boy, mind you. A very particular boy. A boy who both confused and intrigued her, who drove her crazy yet made her smile. He was silent, yet his actions spoke louder than if he shouted, and he was everything he appeared not to be.

Theodore Nott was a strange breed of human that Hermione had clearly never come across before, because she didn't recognise it. She prided herself on her ability to read people, and the fact that Theodore seemed impossible to read irritated her. He was a Slytherin, yet he had already demonstrated that he could be nice. He was smart, obviously, yet he didn't like to flaunt it. His idiosyncrasies were so _interesting_, but Hermione couldn't figure out for the life of her why.

He was a mystery. An enigma.

She was becoming obsessed.

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This was getting ridiculous. She had to stop spending 80% of her time trying to figure Theodore Nott out. She wasn't getting any further, and it was becoming a huge waste of time. Hermione sighed heavily and closed _Hogwarts: A History_. There wasn't anything in there about enchanted rooms, not that she'd really expected there to be. The Room of Requirement was Unplottable, after all, and she doubted that its mysteries could be explained in a book. Perhaps she should talk to Neville.

"Hermione?"

She looked up enquiringly. Harry was standing there, a bemused look on his face.

"McGonagall wants to see you."

"_Professor _McGonagall, Harry," she corrected him automatically, but inside she was confused. The last time she had talked to the headmistress was when she had wanted to know more about human transfiguration and Animagi. "Did she say why?"

Harry shook his head. "Only that it was important."

"Maybe she found out more about Animagi registration laws," Hermione mused, but Harry didn't appear to be listening to her.

"You'd better hurry, it sounded urgent."

Hermione stood up at once. Whatever the matter was, the fact remained that the headmistress required her presence, and Hermione was not about to disappoint her. She left her book sitting on the table and swept out of the common room without another word.

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"You wanted to see me, Professor?"

"Ah yes, Miss Granger. Have a seat."

Hermione sat down, still pondering what this visit could be about. She didn't get very far when she was interrupted, however.

"Mr Nott, glad you could make it. Please." McGonagall gestured to a seat next to Hermione.

Theodore Nott strode in confidently, a carefully neutral expression on his face. He did not glance at Hermione, but she knew that her presence had been acknowledged and dealt with accordingly.

McGonagall sat down at the desk and surveyed the two of them, the tips of her fingers touching. Hermione was reminded eerily of Dumbledore. The formidable woman was becoming more like him everyday.

Speaking of which...

Hermione focused her attention on the portrait of Dumbledore that hung in the place of pride directly behind the headmistress's chair. Dumbledore met her gaze evenly, and she could have sworn that he winked.

"I suppose you are wondering why I have called you in here," McGonagall said, speaking at last.

_Certainly not to discuss the laws regarding becoming an Animagus_, Hermione thought wryly. She wondered briefly if the professor knew anything about what had transpired between herself and Theodore recently, but she dismissed that notion at once. That was impossible.

"You may have noticed that we have not elected a Head Boy and Girl this year at Hogwarts."

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Theodore eyed McGonagall warily. Surely this wasn't her way of asking him and Granger to take on the Head duties for the year? If she hadn't chosen the Heads before the year had begun, why was she suddenly wanting them now?

"This was because I was unsure as to who would be returning to Hogwarts this year, after Professor Dumbledore's death and all the Death Eater activity –"

Theodore deliberately avoided Granger's stare.

"- well, we just – that is to say Professor Dumbledore and I – we didn't know what would happen, or whether many of you would return for your seventh year. Most of you seem to have come back to finish your education, however, and some of the more _unpleasant_ parts of last year –"

_Such as Malfoy attempting to kill the Headmaster_, Theodore thought to himself.

"- have been disregarded. The slate has been wiped clean." She paused. "I had originally intended to appoint Mr Goldstein as Head Boy, but as he has opted to finish his schooling at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, I have decided to choose the next most responsible and intellectual student for the job. Mr Nott, I believe that you will make an excellent Head Boy."

Theodore, who had not missed the note of derision in McGonagall's voice when she had mentioned Beauxbatons, simply nodded and said "Thank you, Headmistress" quietly.

"Miss Granger, there was simply no other who compared to you." There was a definite note of pride in McGonagall's voice now, and Theodore forced himself not to snort. "I would be honoured if you accepted the position of Head Girl."

He expected Granger to beam and thank the headmistress at least fifty times, but instead she looked down at her lap and murmured, "Thank you, Professor".

McGonagall did not seem to notice her lack of enthusiasm, but Theodore certainly did. Not that there was much he _didn't_ notice about the Muggle-born girl, but he would never admit that to anyone.

He wasn't the only one. Dumbledore stared at Granger from his portrait, his brow wrinkled slightly. When McGonagall opened her mouth to speak yet again, he interrupted.

"Minerva, I think we may have to proceed with what we were talking about earlier."

He didn't say it very subtly, but something told Theodore that it was not meant to be subtle. He glanced at Granger, but she didn't appear to notice anything different. He turned back to Dumbledore and resisted the urge to flinch when his gaze met the deceased wizard's.

"Hm?" McGonagall looked from Theodore to Granger, seemingly trying to discover something she was having trouble seeing. Dumbledore cleared his throat and McGonagall started.

"Oh, well, if you think so, Albus..."

"I do," he stated firmly.

Theodore chanced another glance at Granger. She was playing with her hands, determinedly avoiding anyone's eyes. As he watched she bit her lip and shook herself slightly.

"Well then, Miss Granger, Mr Nott, I have an assignment for you. Professor Dumbledore has been telling me about a most intriguing room that appears to be a part of the castle. It's completely Unplottable, and only reveals itself to those in need of something in particular."

Granger looked up.

"You can understand my concern, however, that some of the more – shall we say, 'imaginative' students? – will attempt to use this room to create problems throughout the castle. As it can be used for almost anything, there is no telling how dangerous it could be should the wrong student find it."

"What do you want us to do, Headmistress?" Theodore asked.

"I want you and Miss Granger to locate this room and spend the next four days discovering everything you can about it. Do what you must, and spend all of your time and efforts on collecting information. You will be excused from all of your classes, of course, and we shall think of something to tell your friends while you're away. When the four days are up, return to me and report what you have learned. That is all."

Theodore stood up, recognising the abrupt dismissal. Granger, however, stayed seated.

"Why us, Professor?" she asked curiously.

"Because I trust you two to handle the situation maturely. Now off you go, Miss Granger. I would like you to start immediately."

Granger nodded vaguely and led the way out of the office. When Theodore had joined her she turned to him.

"Follow me."

Theodore frowned as she walked away; he did not particularly like being told what to do by Granger, but he followed her nonetheless. They reached the Grand Staircase and began the ascension to the top of the castle. It wasn't until they reached the seventh and final floor that Granger stopped. She turned and faced a blank stretch of wall opposite a tapestry that had dancing trolls on it.

"Here we are," she said matter-of-factly. He cocked his head. She rolled her eyes at his obvious confusion. "If we're going to be working together for the next four days, Theodore, you have to start talking to me."

He wondered why she used his first name. It was a common practice at Hogwarts to refer to most of the students by their surname only. It promoted a sense of detached recognition that Theodore despised, yet he went along with it. After all, it was tradition.

Deciding that he would offer her the same courtesy, he began to speak. "How do you know this is it? The headmistress told us that the room was Unplottable, Hermione."

Her eyes widened slightly at his use of her name, but she otherwise showed no reaction to the familiarity with which he spoke to her.

"It _is_ Unplottable. I, however, am among a small group of students who have used the Room of Requirement before." And ignoring his look of surprise, she began to pace.

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There you go. A bit longer, thanks to the reviews I've been getting from disappointed readers. And some interaction! Now that I've gotten to the main point of the story, it should start to flow better and become more interesting. Here are some questions for you to think about before the next chapter:

Why did Dumbledore insist on McGonagall sending them to the Room of Requirement?

How much does Theodore know, and how much will Hermione tell him?

What happens next?

Review please! I could always use more ideas.


	4. Chapter 4: The Room of Requirement

**Four Days**

A/N: I have exams coming up next week, so I won't be able to update for a little while, so I'm putting this chapter up in hopes that it will placate you all for the next couple of weeks. ^-^

Disclaimer: I still don't know anyone by the name of Theodore. L

_Chapter 4: The Room of Requirement_

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When Theodore followed Hermione through the door that had appeared in the wall, he almost gasped in surprise. It was only due to his immaculate self control that he managed not to make a sound.

The room was huge. It was definitely bigger than the Slytherin common room, dorms included. He was positive that there wasn't enough room in the wall for this room to fit, but he had long ago learned to disregard any laws of physics when it came to magic. The walls were made of grey stone, like the rest of the castle, but a large fireplace at one end of the room ensured that it was not cold. There were a number of couches and armchairs, and almost an entire wall was taken up by a large bookshelf. It looked...cosy, almost.

"Welcome to the Room of Requirement," Hermione said, her eyes on the flickering fire. "Known to the house elves as the Come and Go Room, it can be anything the user wishes it to become. It can supply anything that the user desires, with exceptions being food and such. It is completely Unplottable, and its presence remains a secret to all but a select few."

Theodore stared at her, bemused. "Why didn't you just tell the Headmistress this, rather than have us waste our time discovering information about a room that you apparently know everything about?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Don't be so naive." Though she said it lightly, Theodore caught the thinly veiled insult beneath the statement, and it irked him. How dare she act all high and mighty, as if she knew everything, and he, a Nott, knew nothing? "Do you honestly think that Dumbledore sent us here to research the Room?" This threw him off guard, and he was temporarily distracted from his annoyance.

"McGonagall sent us here, and why would she lie?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, an action Theodore found both irritating and endearing. A familiar look of exasperation crossed her face, and he had to resist the urge to smirk.

"Dumbledore was the one with the idea, you could tell. And I know it's a pointless job, because Harry first heard of the Room's existence _from_ Dumbledore, and I don't think there's much we can do in barricading this room from other students that he couldn't do himself."

Theodore was silent. He didn't like the idea of being sent on a useless errand, especially when it was going to take time out of his studies and free time. Part of him wanted to not believe Hermione and begin researching, but part of him knew that the girl was too smart for her own good, and was also a terrible liar.

"Why send us here, then?" he asked quietly, and the fight went out of her eyes. She flopped down onto one of the couches and gestured vaguely for Theodore to join her, an invite he ignored.

"I have no idea, Theodore, but I see no point in arguing if they didn't tell us the truth. They obviously have a reason, one they wish not to reveal, and any attempt to argue would be met with insistence otherwise. I say we just relax for the next four days, try not to kill each other and report back afterwards as if nothing has happened."

His lips twitched and Hermione wondered if he was going to smile. He seemed to think better of it, however, and she found herself disappointed. Was there nothing normal about Theodore Nott?

"Try not to kill each other?" So that had been his source of amusement.

"It stands to reason that you don't like me, therefore I don't like you. Who knows what could happen at the end of four days spent entirely in each other's company?"

This seemed to amuse more him than anything. The corner of his mouth turned up, and Hermione held her breath.

"Perhaps we shall become the best of friends, end up falling deeply in love and become the first ever Slytherin/Gryffindor romance."

Hermione couldn't help herself. She started laughing, quietly at first, but it soon rose to a crescendo as Theodore finally smiled. His teeth were very white, she noticed, and perfectly straight. She'd say that he must have worn braces when he was younger, but having been raised in a wizarding family any teeth problems he had as a child would have been magicked away instantly.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't stop," she chuckled, trying to get her breathing back under control. His smile disappeared, and Hermione felt a sense of loss, an echo that stood over the two of them, reminding her of the amazing thing that had just transpired.

"It's fine, I wasn't serious. You have to admit, though, it would make a good story."

That Hermione would agree with.

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I'M SO SORRY I'VE TAKEN FOREVER! My school year has just finished, I have completed the highest level of secondary education and I'm FREE! Final exams, graduation and other such silly things had taken up all of my time, but now...I have to find a job. -.- I'll try to write more, and keep updating regularly. Thank you for sticking with me and I hope you continue to do so!

Peace out.


	5. Chapter 5: Slytherin VS Gryffindor

**Four Days**

A/N: I know I deserve all of you to abandon my story and criticise every inch of it you can, but I'm pleading with you not to. I do have my reasons for not updating, and they include a lingering illness, a job that can't make up its mind regarding how much I should be working and the all-dreaded disease known as writer's block. Add this to problems among close friends and you have one crazed author. At the moment things are settling down, but I can't promise a chapter every other day, as much as I'd like to. I'll just do what I can. THANK YOU FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME. J

Disclaimer: Mine. All mine. Everything except the whole thing. One day, when I win lotto, I will buy the rights. One day.

_Chapter 5: Slytherin VS Gryffindor_

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Hermione was reading. Predictably.

Theodore was watching her. Predictably.

It had been precisely three hours, forty two minutes and seventeen seconds since they had last attempted conversation. He had been counting. The silence was impenetrable, and Theodore had the uncomfortable feeling that Hermione intended it to be this way.

_And so the object of curiosity becomes the seeker with an insatiable hunger for knowledge, _he thought wryly to himself.

But he wasn't going to break the silence. Why should he? Silence was his friend, his steadfast companion during those times when no one else was around. He revelled in it. Silence, rather than noise, came easily to him. Only those with no sense of self restraint (such as Ronald Weasley) made sound for the sheer pleasure of hearing themselves speak.

Theodore sighed silently and resumed his watch of the girl next to the fireplace. As though she had heard him, she looked up, startled when she found his attention focused on her. Theodore waited for her skin to flush in embarrassment, but no such colour touched her cheeks. Instead she put the open book facedown in her lap, rested her hands on top of it and gazed at him without blinking.

What started as an innocent stare quickly became a contest. Neither one of them wanted to admit defeat by looking away, yet the longer they stared at each other, the more powerful the urge to break the contact became. Seconds passed, then minutes.

"This is ridiculous," Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes. Theodore smirked briefly, pleased that his concentration and determination exceeded hers. "These are the kind of games children play, not intelligent adults that should know better."

Theodore observed her thoughtfully. Something told him that this conversation was going to be very important, and he did not want to say anything he'd regret later. He would have to choose his words very carefully.

"What makes you think I know any better?" he asked her slowly. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Don't be thick. You know what you're doing, why don't you just admit you're being childish?"

That remark stung, though he refused to show it had affected him in any way. He did _not_ need to be insulted by Hermione Granger, and he resented the fact that, while she wasn't important to him, he still felt belittled by her.

"I wouldn't call it childish," was all he said in reply.

"What would you call it then?"

"Interesting," he stated simply.

Hermione snorted in an unladylike fashion. "Interesting?"

"Yes. It's a good way to size up the other person, and can prove a reliable way to judge them."

She looked at him incredulously, and Theodore felt satisfied. _Here we go._

"You can't judge people just by looking at them!"

"Says who?"

"Says everyone! You have to talk to the other person, get to know them before you start making assumptions about their character."

"A very..._Gryffindor_ thing to do," he said delicately.

"What are you implying? That Slytherins are too cowardly to go about making assumptions this way?"

She meant to anger him, he could tell. He had irritated her with his remark about Gryffindors, and she wanted to repay him in kind. She wanted him to raise his voice, to argue, to say that she was wrong in every possible way. Anything that put him on the same level as her. She was far too easy to read.

"Curious. Stubborn. Intelligent, but unable to believe in what is perceived as impossible. Logical, practical to the end, methodical. The kind of person who has a daily planner. Good at prioritising, but sometimes has a habit of giving things a higher importance than they should have while neglecting things that should be addressed immediately. Prefers dealing with the problems of others rather than their own. Not easily influenced, but easily swayed by those they trust. Prefers to operate alone."

Hermione blinked at him in confusion and Theodore clarified.

"Everything I've learnt about you by observation. You're easy to read, Hermione, but only by someone very good at reading."

Hermione flushed angrily and Theodore sensed he had hit a nerve. She took a deep breath and the colour faded. He found himself impressed at her self control.

"Observant. Quiet, probably because you don't often feel the need to speak up. Judgemental, but nearly always correct. Not unintelligent, but prefers not to flaunt it. Trusts nobody, therefore influenced by nobody. Good at lying, though I would go out on a limb and say you don't do it often. After all, the truth can be just as devastating as the lie, can't it, Theodore?"

He eyed her curiously. She was quite accurate, except for the fact that he didn't lie because the truth was more devastating. He didn't lie because he liked to avoid complications, and in Theodore's experience, most complications came hand in hand with lies.

"You're doing that staring thing again," Hermione informed him haughtily. "I really don't like it."

He didn't answer and her temper began to surface again.

"I wish you'd just open your mouth and say what you're thinking! Do you have any idea how infuriating it is trying to have a conversation with someone who won't reply?"

He smiled slightly. "No, I don't. It's not often I come across someone as quiet as me."

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	6. Chapter 6: Tension and Chocolate Milk

**Four Days**

A/N: Thanks for continuing to read and review. Life is somewhat sorting itself out, but the problem with life is that corners are sharp and unexpected. I'm going to try and update more regularly, but you know me, I don't make promises because I'm uncannily good at breaking them.

Disclaimer: Theodore Nott was mentioned, what, once in the entire series? Surely he's a minor enough character for me to legally claim as my own. I mean, _I've_ given him more of a personality than J.K. Rowling ever did. I still don't own the rest of the series yet, unfortunately.

_Chapter 6: Tension and Chocolate Milk_

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Theodore was growing tired.

Hermione was too, he could tell. She may not say anything, but he saw the way her eyes fluttered closed while reading, and the way she shook her head slightly every now and then. It was obvious she was more than ready to go to bed, but too stubborn to admit it first. Theodore was frustrated, for the first time since he could remember. Never had he met someone as determined as Hermione Granger. Once she set her mind to something, it was all but impossible to deter her from her path. He was beginning to get a feel for what it felt like to be Potter or Weasley. How they put up with her day and night, for nearly seven years straight, was a mystery to him.

And now she had decided that she wanted to outdo Theodore in every way possible. It was infuriating to compete with her without openly competing; because that, of course, was _childish_.

The silence had stretched for so long that Theodore had forgotten how long the two of them had been sitting there, each silently daring the other to move. It was like a chess game that nobody wanted to play.

Hermione stifled a yawn and Theodore almost growled. Yes, _growled_. He was becoming that frustrated with the determined muggleborn. He didn't want to give in any more than she did, but patience was _his_ forte, not hers. If she intended to play him at his own game, she was going to lose.

"KREACHER!" she called, suddenly, and Theodore nearly jumped. He managed to stop himself at the last minute, reminding himself that he had impeccable self control and that now, more than ever, was not the time to lose it.

There was a loud CRACK following her call and an old house elf appeared in the middle of the room.

"Did Miss Hermione want something?" he croaked, bowing slightly. Theodore frowned internally. Most house elves called their owners Mistress or Master and tried to touch their noses to the floor when bowing. Maybe this house elf didn't belong to her; he didn't think someone like Hermione would own one anyway. She struck him as the kind of person who would find the idea of owning another living and intelligent creature repulsive.

Hermione smiled at the house elf. "Would you be able to get me a glass of chocolate milk, please, Kreacher? I'd really appreciate it."

"Of course, Miss Hermione. Right away."

There was another CRACK as the elf disapparated. He was gone for a mere few seconds before he reappeared with a glass of brownish milk which he handed to Hermione.

"Was there anything else Miss required of Kreacher?" he asked. Hermione shook her head.

"That will be all, Kreacher. Thank you."

The elf bowed again, and was about to disapparate, but he hesitated.

"What is it, Kreacher?" Hermione asked, noticing his reluctance.

"Kreacher just wanted to know if Master Harry was coming home for the Christmas holidays, Miss," Kreacher said. "Kreacher has been working on the house, Miss, and he thinks that Master Harry will like it. He will make it look most splendid for the holidays if Master will come and visit."

_Ah_, thought Theodore. _Potter's house elf_. He wasn't aware that Potter owned a house elf, or a house, but it appeared he owned both.

"I think Harry was planning on spending the Christmas holidays at the Burrow, Kreacher," Hermione replied gently. The house elf looked crestfallen. She bit her lip. "I can probably convince him to come to Grimmauld Place for a bit, though. If you like."

The old house elf lit up like a Christmas tree. "You would do that for Kreacher?"

"Of course." Hermione smiled at the little elf. "I'll talk to him, and he'll see you at Christmas."

"Thank you Miss!" And with a POP he disapparated.

Hermione sat back in her chair and began sipping at whatever Kreacher had brought her. She glanced at Theodore and saw his curious look. She giggled a little.

"Chocolate milk," she answered his unspoken question, gesturing to the glass. "A muggle drink. It's kind of a vice of mine." She smiled somewhat sheepishly.

Theodore nodded but didn't say anything. Hermione might not realise it, but she had just admitted to him that she needed her vice. He unsettled her. Good.

"Who was that house elf?" he asked slowly, planning the conversation in his head as he always did.

"His name is Kreacher. He belongs to Harry, part of the inheritance his godfather left him when he died. Kreacher didn't like Harry at first, but they get on fine now."

"His godfather?"

"Sirius Black. He was innocent, remember? He left Harry the entire Black fortune and inheritance. He was the last of the Black line, too. Now it's extinct."

A pity, Theodore thought. The Blacks were a very old and wealthy family, more prestigious than the Malfoys even. Potter may have been given the inheritance, but the Black family no longer existed. A shame.

"I miss Sirius," Hermione admitted quietly. Theodore looked at her, puzzled. She knew him well? She must have seen the expression on his face, because she clarified her statement. "We met after he broke out of Azkaban. He was ruined by that place, you could tell, but he still loved to laugh. He always treated us like adults rather than children, and he meant the world to Harry." She sighed. "Now Harry's a godfather himself, with all the responsibilities of a parent, and far too soon. Teddy adores him, but Harry has no idea what he's doing. I shudder to think what would have happened if Andromeda wasn't able to look after him. Harry would have been Teddy's sole carer."

Teddy must be Ted Lupin, the son of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, Theodore mused. Andromeda was, of course, Teddy's grandmother, the sole survivor of the Tonks family. He hadn't known that Potter was the boy's godfather. It made sense, he supposed, but he wondered what his old Defence teacher was thinking, putting so much responsibility on such young shoulders. Under normal circumstances it wouldn't be a problem, but in a war? Anything could happen. And it had, he reflected sombrely. Teddy Lupin was an orphan, and made one so quickly.

"Life can be unbelievingly cruel," Theodore murmured, still thinking to himself. Hermione smiled at him sadly.

"Yes, it can."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

They talked more over the next few hours, discussing things of not much importance. Theodore found that he and Hermione shared similar views on a lot of things, most of which he wouldn't admit to her. She was stubborn and proud, indeed, but she wasn't unintelligent, and for that Theodore was grateful. She was rational, too, a pleasant surprise.

Theodore glanced at his watch and was amazed to see that it was nearly two in the morning. He mentioned this to Hermione and she jumped up, startled.

"We'd better get to bed!" she told him, upset that she hadn't realised the time sooner. Theodore cocked an eyebrow.

"Why? It's not as if we have anywhere to be tomorrow," he pointed out lazily.

"Still, we should get some sleep," she insisted. "Who knows what might happen tomorrow?"

She had a point. Silently Theodore rose from his seat and regarded her with interest.

"Where are we supposed to sleep?" he asked her, genuinely curious. "There aren't any beds."

Hermione grinned. She stepped to the side to reveal two doors that Theodore was sure hadn't been there before.

"Ask and the Room shall provide," she said, making her way towards the door on the left. Theodore was impressed, despite himself. He walked slowly towards the door on the right.

"Goodnight Theodore," Hermione smiled before disappearing into her room. Theodore opened the door to his own and stepped inside.

It looked pretty much like his room in the Slytherin dungeons, except slightly warmer. It suited him nicely.

Theodore looked around and spotted a dresser, which on further inspection held a number of clothes, all his size. This place truly was amazing.

He readied himself for bed and lay down on the mattress, staring at the ceiling. He wondered what the next day would bring, and what kind of game he and Hermione would be playing.

Theodore went to sleep thinking.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

I know, it's been awhile. And I'm sorry! But now that I'm 18 and everything the government is all "Be an adult. Fill out some forms, get a job, DO SOMETHING WITH YOUR LIFE AND DO IT FAST!" Meanwhile my friends are dragging me all over the city, teaching me bad habits and generally corrupting me (because that's so hard to do) and there's been some annoying issues with a friend that STILL haven't quite sorted themselves out and I WANT TO KILL THE WORLD.

Okay, I'm done ranting. Please review with lots and lots of ideas, because I have no idea where I'm going from here. J What do you think should happen tomorrow when they wake up? HELP.

Lots of love,

digitalmonster911


	7. Chapter 7: The Next Morning

**Four Days**

A/N: Okay, I have some SERIOUS apologising to do. I know I haven't updated this story in two years, and it's a really long story as to why. At 20 years old I have finally taken a break from university and am currently working three jobs to pay rent, but I'm a lot less stressed than I have been in the past. An anonymous reader just reviewed this story, and I felt like I owe you guys more for sticking with me. So here's another chapter on me, hopefully with more to come soon. Also, please don't hate me if my writing style isn't as good, I've been out of practice for a while.

tl;dr: Adult life is hard so I'm going to start writing fiction again.

Disclaimer: I'm still in love with Theodore Nott. *sigh*

_Chapter 7: The Next Morning_

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

The ceiling was the wrong colour.

Theodore squinted, trying to figure out why the ceiling of his room, which had always been a dark green colour (often reflected by the ghostly lighting of the room) had suddenly become a light cream. He definitely wasn't at home, either. Curious.

It took Theodore longer than he would care to admit to realise that he was still in the Room of Requirement, and that, judging by the pale light of the sky outside, it was no later than 6AM. He yawned, stretched and started to get up. He placed his feet on the floor next to the bed, expecting the usual cold invasion of his toes, but instead was met by a soft, warm rug. He wiggled his toes experimentally. It felt nice.

Theodore would never admit this to anyone, but if he had a personality that was in any way silly, he was at his daftest first thing in the morning. He usually needed at least two cups of strong, black coffee to wake him up, and Blaise Zabini had once sworn up and down that he had once heard Theo singing in the shower. Theodore, of course, denied all truth of this happening. It wasn't his fault that some idiot half blood on the lower floor had been blasting Muggle music that morning. Which incidentally didn't last long, as soon as Malfoy had realised that the music was not of the wizarding world.

Humming quietly to himself, Theo made his way to the adjoining bathroom that he had discovered the night before. He had really hoped that he was not sharing it with Hermione, and he wasn't sure whether it was that wish that made the Room provide them with separate bathrooms, or whether it was Hermione herself. Either way, he needed a shower.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Finally refreshed yet still feeling sluggish, Theo crept (or as he liked to call it, moved cautiously) into the main section that the Room had provided. He looked around for Hermione, but she was nowhere in sight. Feeling slightly smug that he was the earlier riser of the two, he took a seat on his preferred armchair.

'_Coffeecoffeecoffeecoffeecoffee_'his brain seemed to be chanting. Wincing slightly, Theodore thought to himself, '_I could really go for some strong coffee right about now_'.

He wasn't really expecting anything to happen. Theo was still new to the whole idea of the Room of Requirement, and he didn't quite understand how it worked. It seemed, however, that the Room understood him. Where there had only been a solid wall a second earlier, there was now a small, rather homey looking kitchen, complete with what seemed to be everything one would need to cook. Theo rose slowly and made his way tentatively towards the new addition. Upon inspection he discovered a kettle and coffee beans. Grinning to himself (or as he preferred, rarely expressing pleasure), Theo pulled out his wand and tapped the kettle resting on the stove. It instantly filled with water and began to steam slightly. He aimed at the coffee beans, and they began to grind themselves into a mug. Sugar flew out of the cupboard and precisely measured itself into one teaspoon, before pouring itself into the aforementioned mug. The kettle whistled, and Theo carefully levitated it until the boiled water filled the mug. A cutlery draw rattled; a spoon flew out and began to stir the mug.

Satisfied with his accomplishment, Theodore picked up the mug of coffee and took a sip.

_Perfect_.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Unbeknownst to Theodore, a pair of dark eyes observed this process curiously. Hermione stood in shock as she watched _the_ Theodore Nott practically dance around the kitchen while he made coffee. Resisting the urge to giggle, she withdrew and left the – was happy the right word? – Theodore to his own devices. There would be plenty of time to use this moment of weakness to her advantage later. She had work to do.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

A/N: I know it's only a short chapter, but I'm still trying to figure out where I'm going with this. Hopefully I have something longer for you soon!


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